


Strawberry Blond

by RaspberryPigeon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fereldans, Ferelden (Dragon Age), Road Trips, We're just gonna have a chill time and get to know these characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryPigeon/pseuds/RaspberryPigeon
Summary: All I need, darlingIs a life in your shapeI picture it, softAnd I acheAfter the blight is over, commander Nuala Surana is travelling through Thedas when she meets two brothers and receives a letter.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 4





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this is my first fic! I welcome any feedback you guys have, this has been beta read by two people but you know. The more the merrier. 
> 
> Nuala as a character has been stewing in my head since 2016, when I first played dragon age origins. Her relationship with Alistair ended poorly in game, and I wanted to explore the dynamic of two people making up and eventually getting back together, but also a smaller narrative taking place between games, getting to know some regular people from thedas along the way. Not sure when Alistair will show up myself, but he will, eventually. 
> 
> Will be adding more tags as needed! Rating might change.

The old arling of Redcliffe wasn’t really old anymore. The fortress itself was the same, but the village surrounding had changed to the point of being unrecognizable. After half of it was wiped out by darkspawn and the other half by - quite literally - the walking dead, it had been almost entirely rebuilt further down the shore of lake Calenhad. The buildings that did survive stood old, weathered and in stark contrast to the newer construction.

  


Nuala felt strange seeing it both again and for the first time. She had come through the road west of Denerim that passed through the ruins of Lothering and arrived through a windy mountain path, marked by cairns at somewhat regular intervals. The road came down next to the red cliffs that gave the town its name and everything in their vicinity a distinctive ruddiness. Sometimes it felt like people hadn’t ever heard of another color near that town.

  


It was close to sunset when she arrived, making the lake and houses seem to glow in the light. She made the horse stop a while, she wanted to enjoy the soft breeze and watch how the light filtered through the trees, to listen to the sounds of the town close by. Her stomach quickly steering them in the direction of the tavern.

  


The new tavern being called ‘The Gull and Lantern’ disappointed her a bit. An entire wealth of recent history to take inspiration from and they go with something completely unrelated. Not everyone has the stomach for it, she guessed. Stopping at the stables to tie off her horse before heading in.

  


While removing her things from the horse she saw two young men who apparently couldn’t afford a room. They both had golden brown skin and curly black hair, and reminded her of Zevran a bit. Could they be Antivan or Rivaini? What would two teenagers be doing so far from home? They gave her a nod, which she returned before heading out.

  


She walked into the tavern, greeting the owner and paid for a room and some dinner, and found a seat in a small, empty table. A female elf travelling alone with enough money to pay for a room wasn’t exactly a regular sight, but no one seemed to mind. She was glad the pointy ears weren’t being a nuisance today.

  


She’d taken her knife off the belt and put it on the table, and laid her bag on the seat next to hers. Cursing herself, she realized she’d left her sword on the pack horse along with the rest of her things. She knew how to use one in a fight, sure, but often forgot that she couldn’t just go around setting fire to people in public, and especially not in the middle of town.

  


Not long after, a serving girl showed up with the food. Looking down, she was surprised to find roast meat and vegetables on her plate, rather than the cheaper stew she’d paid for. The owner was thankfully nearby, though, and she motioned for him to come closer.

“I think there’s been a mistake, I didn’t pay for all this.”

At that, he cracks a warm smile and says

“You’ve paid me ten times over anything I could offer!”

Seeing her confused face, he added

“What, you think I wouldn’t recognize the Hero of Ferelden walking into my own tavern?”

“Sir, I--”

“Now now, I won’t make a fuss.” He says, while pouring a dark liquid into a mug. “But you and your friends are the only reason I’m alive enough to own this place! Least I could do is a good plate of food under my own roof.”

  


He’d set the drink on the table and walked off to serve someone else before she could even squeeze a “thank you” in. She took a sip out of the mug and felt the warmth and sweetness of heavily spiced wine. Not her favourite by any means, but definitely expensive. 

  


While sipping it, she looked around the place. The owner was tending to the stew on the fire, and the steam coming out of it flowed up gently to the chimney. In another table, a rather drunk group of patrons yelled and laughed while playing Wicked Grace. Ferelden’s recent boost in commerce and travel was evident in the number of travellers enjoying the food and warmth of the tavern. Maybe the blight did bring people together after all?

  


________

  


She woke up early as usual. She liked to be up at that time, when no one else was up but the birds, and the sky had only just started to grow light. She remembered the circle and the early chantry sermons, how Jowan was always dozing off while still completely upright in those uncomfortable pews. A light sleeper, she always did envy him for that.

  


Her room ended up being nicer than what she paid for. It reminded her of the senior mage quarters in the tower, except that she didn’t have to share it with anyone. She warmed up the water left in the basin to clean herself, and thought of the nicer things from the circle… Warm baths, books, the gardens, the food from the gardens. Irving asking her to transcribe something from some old, heavy encyclopedia with beautiful drawings of plants and flowers and family crests and all sorts of other things on the inside - she’d show them to Jowan, telling him little tidbits she’d learned. Together they would watch the templars trying to fish in the lake from the garden, before they had to build up the walls because of the escape attempts. The water grew cold as she finished her bath.

  


She thought she should pay Irving a visit, while drying off. She would also be happy to see Wynne, even if in the end she knew she would get an earful. Linen shirt on, tucked into pants, blue sash - a gift from Zevran - wrapped around her waist. Belt and boots buckled, she headed out for one last look at the town.

  


Smack in the middle of the square was the new, shiny griffon statue. She could wonder why they decided on a griffon instead of anything else, but decided against it. The thought that fereldans found it easier to pay respects to a vague image of the wardens rather than risk depicting a mage or, maker forbid, an elf, in a position of prestige was sort of depressing.

  


While standing in the statue’s shade, she saw what looked like flames lighting the stable from the inside. It took her a while to register that there shouldn’t be any torches lit inside the stables during the day, and by the time she realized half of her worldly possessions and  _ all of her travel supplies _ were inside, completely surrounded by very flammable straw she was already halfway to the door.

Inside she sees one of the kids from before, the younger of the two. He’s playing with magic, making small flames dance across his palms, some growing in size, some even beginning to change color.

  


Startled, he fell back, losing control of the magic and lighting the straw in front of them on fire. “Oh shit” is all he manages to say before she realizes that he’s an apostate, this isn’t the circle and she definitely wasn’t supposed to see that.


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if anyone’s actually reading this but, shorter chapter this time. I think I’ll try and upload whatever I have done every two weeks or so, no matter how little I write the story still progresses. I’m still having fun writing this!
> 
> We also have a playlist!  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3E7ms3Xa5DY10LxkGrWq1D?si=ZlIviYnvR4azHRnKGeuE2g

“hey!” she quickly stomps on the straw, putting the fire out “it’s alright!”

The kid is absolutely terrified, his eyes dart around the place before quickly focusing on something over her shoulder. She turns around to see - ah, shit - her own sword. And the kid’s brother swinging it. At her head.

She ducks and his swing misses her head by a few inches, cutting into the wooden beam right next to her head with a dull sound. She ices the floor before he can regain his footing, making him slip and fall right on his ass, while little snowflakes dance in the air around them.

The smaller kid, though, saw this as a great opportunity to grab her from behind. They both end up on the floor. Nuala elbows him in the stomach, getting free. The older brother notices and, distracted from his task of removing the sword stuck on the wood, turns to face her.

“Domnal, run while I distract her!” he yells. He doesn’t, though, “We don’t know if there are more outside! We need to ask her” says the younger one.

“More what?” Nuala says, confused. 

“More of your circle people!” he says, with a decent measure of disdain. She quickly realizes they think she’s a… circle mage? A mage sent by the _templars_ to help capture an apostate. At that she just laughs. Both the kids are looking at her incredibly confused and she just… keeps laughing.

“You think they’d send a _mage?_ ” she snorts. “You think the templars would send a mage to capture _another mage_?” she says, wiping a tear. “Maker, that’s rich.”

“But you saw me using magic! And you did magic too!” the smaller one pleaded. “you don’t look like an apostate!”

“What _does_ an apostate look like?” She laughs. “You could say that, though. I’m a grey warden.”

“Right! And I’m the king of Ferelden.” The older one says. “Why should we believe you?”

She sighs. “That sword” she says, pointing at the thing still stuck on the wooden beam “has the grey warden commander’s seal - a griffon, same as that statue outside except for the extra head - and the other side has the motto inscribed.” She didn’t know if they could read at all, though.

“Anyways, _you’re_ the ones who just tried to kill me. If I had any reason to report you anywhere I wouldn’t be standing around talking.” She takes a few steps towards where the older one stood, close to the beam. “I’ve also got a letter with the king’s seal in my bag if this isn’t enough proof.” She moves to pull the sword out of the wood, but it’s at an awkward angle and she can’t quite get enough force behind it. 

The official letter was there, true. But along with it she got another, smaller one. No wax seal, or royal stamp though the paper was as thick and sturdy as the other. Not written by a steward, no proper signature either, no sharp letters saying “Alistair Theirin” and declaring whatever authority the king might have. There was just a small A at the end, followed by a tiny dot. She had been trying not to think about it or the stupid rose that came attached since the day she got them. She’d thrown the damned thing into the fire, but couldn’t bring herself to burn the letter.

“Help me with this, will you?” She gestures towards it. Shame to see a decent blade ruined by someone so bad at swinging it. Still, it was stuck fairly deep. “You know, that wasn’t a bad swing. You two interested in training? Can’t really teach you much about sword fighting, but I was a circle mage before being a warden.”

The smaller one - Domnal - looks at her with a smile and a spark in his eye and then straight at his brother, judging his reaction. “We… just tried to kill you, you said it yourself! And now you want to? Train us?” She shrugs, turning back to tug at the sword again, since the big guy wasn’t intent on helping. “I could use some company on the road. And so could you two, by the looks of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it here, thanks so much for reading!


End file.
